


The Price of Happily Ever After

by Rasalahuge



Series: Concepts Series [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, End of the World, F/M, Gen, POV First Person, all magic has a price, there isn't always a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasalahuge/pseuds/Rasalahuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time Travel for the Concepts Series.</p>
<p>
  <em>The Sickness was a side effect of the curse, or so Regina and Papa had managed to determine. Anyone from the Enchanted Forest was susceptible but those under the curse had the least resistance. The children and the old fell first but no one realised how bad it was, not until the day that Granny died. </em>
</p>
<p>All magic has a price and to save the world Neal has to take on the heaviest price of them all. For him there will be no happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price of Happily Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very AU. Ignores all of Season 3 as was written well before season 3 started to air.

The Sickness was a side effect of the curse, or so Regina and Papa had managed to determine. Anyone from the Enchanted Forest was susceptible but those under the curse had the least resistance. The children and the old fell first but no one realised how bad it was, not until the day that Granny died. I remember Snow comforting Ruby while David forced Papa and Regina to look into this. I remember the day that they realised what was happening, the ending they had condemned everyone to.

Jefferson started to work on it the day that Grace died. I didn’t know him back then; he was just another person in this town who’d lost a loved one to The Sickness. I didn’t know who he was, how important he was, I didn’t know how special. I know that back then, before they got sick like everyone else Snow and David talked about Jefferson, talked about how if anyone could solve this where the strongest sorcerers in history had failed it was him. They looked after him while he worked, kept his madness at bay with gentle reminders of Grace, kept him from collapsing from either exhaustion or starvation.

Belle was the first of the young and healthy to fall ill. Even now, long after I’ve forgiven Papa of everything he did, I know that Belle falling ill was his price. He drove himself nearly mad with exhaustion and desperation trying to find a cure while I sat by her bedside and read to her. He gave up eventually and came to her then, lay down on her bed and held her through the final few days. She made him promise not to just give up, to keep helping, keep trying to save those who were left. I think that’s the only reason he didn’t just take the dagger and stab his own heart through the day she finally stopped breathing. Instead he buried her and went to join Jefferson, the two of them locking themselves away from the world.

When David fell sick Snow split her time between her husband and Jefferson and Papa, exhausted herself and then succumbed to the sickness herself. Emma was devastated and so it was me who had to step in then. I took over looking after Jefferson and Papa, took over keeping the peace in a town that was slowly dying. There wasn’t much that needed doing, those that weren’t sick yet were either sat with their loved ones watching them waste away or sat at home looking at pictures of those they had already lost and waiting for the inevitable.

I remember the day that David and Snow died, within minutes of each other and cradled in one another’s arms. Regina was there, along with Henry, Emma and I. There weren’t even enough nurses and doctors left at that stage to keep everyone comfortable. I knew Regina had taken on that mantle, going around and offering peace to those who were suffering from the pain of the final few days, but she took a break the day Snow and David died. She cried then, wept for the young woman she both hated and loved. She had her revenge in the end, Snow had died from the curse that she cast, but she didn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t find any satisfaction in it.

After that it seemed that we few, those who had not been under the curse, were simply bringers of peace in the last few hours. We gave them relief whatever way we could and then we buried them. Five or six a day were buried but all of us were determined to see them buried properly. We used the fields where the beans had once grown and laid them out, everyone having their own grave and everyone close to their loved ones. Simple gravestones just gave their names, both of them, for we couldn’t do much more. Emma and Regina used magic to create a memorial stone declared the day the first had died to The Sickness, when the rest of us were gone Henry would add the last day before he left Storybrooke forever and went to make his own way.

He wasn’t born in the Enchanted Forest and he had never been under the curse. He would live where the rest of us died.

Jefferson called me the day we buried the last person who had been under the curse, the Blue Fairy, and he told me the news I had come to expect a long time ago. Papa was sick.

There were less than a dozen of us left now. Emma, Regina, Henry, Hook, Anton, Aurora, Phillip and Mulan. And of course Jefferson, Papa and I. We retreated then to Jefferson’s house, to where they had been doing the work of several lifetimes trying to find an answer. Papa was clearly sick when we got there but he refused to stop working. He lay in bed surrounded by books and paper covered in scribbles in multiple languages and snapped orders to the rest of us between spates of violent coughing and seizures.

Where the others scrambled to do as he bid I just stayed by him. He had little enough left that I couldn’t deny him what comfort I could offer. I crawled into bed beside him, curled up with my head in his lap and let him play with my hair, the way we had lain centuries ago back when I was a child with nightmares and he was the only one who could chase them away.

We worked for long days as Storybrooke lay empty.

Then Aurora succumbed to a coughing fit.

She was already weakened from the sleeping curse, a long year then frozen in time for twenty eight years; her body had never fully recovered. Of course she was the next to fall ill.

I could tell that the others were surprised. They looked to Jefferson, who was under the curse even if he always kept his memories, but I knew that his manic work prevented him from succumbing just yet. The minute he gave up he would fade, and faster than anyone. But until he gave up he would keep working and keep the sickness back.

Regina, who was also under the curse, would be the last to go. If Papa’s price was for his True Love to die while he watched helpless then Regina’s price was to watch everyone else fade around her before succumbing herself and leaving her beloved son alone in the world.

I disliked magic but I understand it as well as one who had never wielded it could.

Aurora faded faster than Papa. He was sick, terribly sick, but the curse of the Dark One clung to him and tethered him to life. When Aurora died Phillip, Mulan and Emma took her away and returned with red eyes.

Jefferson and Papa worked harder then. Every scrap of strength Papa had he poured into their work and I stayed by his side, giving him what strength I had.  
The day they found the answer was the day that Phillip, Anton and Hook finally admitted their illness.

I lay, as I always did, in Papa’s arms as he shivered and coughed weakly. He was clinging on now by a thread and the child still in me wanted to scream and cry and beg for him not to die, not to leave me, not again. But I am not a child anymore and it would be cruel to beg Papa not to leave. Not when he had no choice. Not when Belle was waiting for him.

“We can do it,” Papa said, his voice so weak that only I heard it at first. I lifted my head up, catching the attention of Emma and Henry, “We can stop this,” Papa said his voice fractionally stronger.

“Guys!” Emma shouted and as summoned the others appeared. Those who were sick looked tired and pale and weak but nowhere near as bad as Papa. Jefferson strode in, madness in his eyes, and took the paper that Papa offered him weakly. He scanned it, reading over and over and then gave a wide, triumphant smile that made him look like the insane hatter he was underneath it all.

“This is it,” He said his eyes alight with life the way they had not been for months.

“Isn’t it a bit late now?” Regina asked in a tired voice and I wondered if she had realised her fate as well, “Everyone’s dead,”

“Now they are, but they won’t be soon,” Jefferson said with a smirk.

“Magic can’t raise the dead,” Emma cut in, “That was one of the first things I was taught,” She glanced at Papa, “And it’s not pretty if you try, according to Victor,” Frankenstein or Whale, he had lingered longer than most. Not of the Enchanted Forest but still under the curse. He had been the last doctor to succumb.

“We’re not raising the dead,” Papa corrected weakly and then started to cough. I sat up then and helped him sit too, supporting him through the fit before he collapsed back, energy sapped, “We’re going to prevent any of them dying in the first place,”

“How?” Regina looked sad but hopeful.

“World jumping,” Jefferson took over the explanation, clearly seeing that Papa wasn’t up for it, “Worlds have their own timelines that run at different speeds relative to one another. With the right combination of worlds and timelines we can jump back, reach the enchanted forest before the curse is cast and prevent it. No curse, no Storybrooke, no Sickness,”

“Time travel,” Henry breathed, “That’s what you’ve been working on, time travel,”

“There’s no cure for The Sickness,” Papa struggled to say, “I knew that long ago,” Back when he lay down and held Belle while she died, “But if there was a way to prevent it from happening in the first place,”

“So Jefferson goes back and stops the curse from being cast… how?” Regina asked, “By killing me?”

“I can’t do it,” Jefferson cut in, “Not alone. The world jumping, it’s complicated without the hat and it comes with a price. For the number of jumps I’d have to do…” He shook his head, “The price will kill me. But I can take someone else through, shoulder the price for both of us,”

“So someone has to go through and kill Mom?” Henry looked devastated, heartbroken even. I didn’t notice however because I turned to look at Papa then and saw his expression. It was sad and heartbroken and defeated, not the expression of someone given a chance to start over again. He turned and met my gaze and I knew. Some part of me knew.

“I’ll do it,” Regina offered, “I won’t ask anyone else to shoulder this duty,” I reached out and took Papa’s hand and squeezed it, a lump in my throat.

“Regina we can’t ask you to do that,” Emma protested.

“I’ll go,” Hook offered immediately, “I have no qualms about killing and I’m dying anyway,” I swallowed the lump as best I could and squeezed Papa’s hand one last time before sitting up fully.

“No,” I said unable to take my eyes off him, “I’m going,” Papa looked both relieved and heartbroken. He knew what had to happen and he wanted it to happen even less than I did, “I’m the one who will go,”

“Neal?” Emma sounded confused.

“Why you?” Mulan asked, observant as always.

“Because Regina’s not the one we have to kill,” I replied finally looking up from Papa. They were all staring at me. Jefferson looked at me with knowing eyes. He knew, of course he had the paper in front of him telling him when it was that we’d come out in the Enchanted Forest and I was willing to bet it was a long time before Regina was even born. The rest were staring with varying degrees of disbelief and dawning realisation.

“I cast the curse but he’s the one that built it, that arranged everything,” Regina whispered, “If I don’t cast it then he will, because it’s the only way to find you,”

“All magic has a price,” I said quietly, “This is the price I have to pay now. The curse reunited us, gave us a second chance and Papa’s paid the price for that but I haven’t. This is my price,”

“Neal,” Hook had wide eyes, “Neal there’s only one way to kill the Dark One in the Enchanted Forest,”

“This is why it has to be me. I’m the only one who can find the dagger, the only one who can get close enough to use it.” I replied.

“But,” Henry stepped closer looking between me and Papa with tears in his eyes, “But if you’re there, if you go back and meet him then won’t he give up on the curse anyway? If he did this to find you again then surely if you’re reunited then he doesn’t need the curse,”

“It’s not that simple Henry,” Papa whispered reaching out weakly for his grandson, “Bae is mortal where I’m not. Even if he goes back, even if we’re reunited then one day he’ll die of old age and I’ll live on. In that world, where the curse has its strongest hold on me, Bae’s death will wear away my sanity. Chances are I’d end up arranging to have the curse cast anyway, for the chance of finding the Bae that fled into this world.”

“Because there would be two of him,” Emma breathed following Papa’s circular reasoning, “The one you lost and the one that went back in time,”

“Killing me is the only choice,” Papa choked out and started to cough again. I reached for him, desperate to do this much but he flinched from me and my heart broke. I knew I didn’t frighten him, but rather he was frightened for me.

Henry was the one to come and help Papa through his latest coughing fit. Once it was over Papa slumped back on the pillows behind him, his eyes closed and his chest still. For one brief terrifying moment I feared he was already gone. But then his chest moved, his breathing terribly shallow, and his eyes flickered open. I saw the agony and grief in them, the thousand apologies that he had not the strength or the breath to utter. I lay back down again and this time he was the one cradled in my arms. I bent my head over his, aware that I was anointing his hair with tears.

“What will it mean?” Phillip asked quietly, “If Neal goes back and kills his father?”

“If you kill the Dark One with the Dark One’s dagger then you take his power, you become the next Dark One,” Regina explained, “The only other way to remove the curse is True Love’s kiss. Unfortunately by the time Rumpelstiltskin met Belle it was far too late for any of us.”

“Wait,” Emma cut in as though she suddenly realised something, “If Neal goes back and kills Gold, then everything Gold ever did would be prevented right?” She asked and Regina nodded, “But then he wouldn’t be there to save Cora’s life. Regina you’d never be born,” She said and Regina swallowed heavily.

“A price I’m willing to pay,” She answered, “If you remember correctly I have already offered once to kill my own past self,”

“No but,” Emma looked at everyone in the room weakly, “What about my parents? Didn’t he make a deal with David’s Mom? He saved their farm in exchange for giving the King one of their twins to raise as a Prince. What happens if he doesn’t save the farm? Would David live to grow up and meet Snow White?” She asked and Regina hesitated, “What about Belle? She made a deal with him to save her family from the ogres didn’t she? I’m not…” Emma broke off and looked over at me and my Papa, “I’m not saying he hasn’t done a lot of bad things, but he has done some good things as well. Even if it was accidentally,” She eyed Papa and I was surprised to see him smirk, “But if we wipe away all the bad, what about the good?” She closed her eyes and then looked at Henry and I knew then what she was thinking, “What about Henry?”

“It’s alright Emma,” I said and she looked at me then desperately, “If I go back to the right time,” I looked over at Jefferson who nodded to confirm my thoughts, “Then I’ll be in Neverland, not this world. I can go and fetch myself, once I have Papa’s powers. I can put him in stasis; wake him up when you’re a teenager.”  
“As for the rest,” Papa interrupted, laboured, “I can tell him. I can give him the knowledge he needs. To ensure the good while preventing the bad,”

“It’s a lot to ask, of anyone,” Mulan mused meeting my eyes, “A long and lonely life full of darkness. Are you strong enough?” She asked.

And that was the real question here wasn’t it? Was I strong enough to take on all the dark seductive power of the Dark One? Was I strong enough to weather the changes it would wreak on my very soul? Was I strong enough to stay true to the plan, to prevent the curse from being cast, to ensure everyone’s happy ending?  
Was I strong enough to thrust the dagger between my Papa’s ribs and into his heart in the first place?

“He’s strong enough,” Papa breathed and I turned back to him. He was looking at me with eyes bright with tears and exhaustion. There was such faith and love and devotion in those eyes that I thought my heart would burst, “If an old cowardly spinner like me can still love with all the darkness of the curse then my brave, loving Baelfire is strong enough to do just about anything,”

It was a father’s faith, blinded to his son’s faults. But in that moment I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and held him tightly. I’d long since forgiven him but those words took me back. They took me back to those first days where I was burning with anger and pain. He was dying then as well. Laid out, exhausted, on the little camp bed in his shop and telling an amnesiac girl that she was a hero who made him better. Made him the father I loved rather than the monster I feared and hated. It was the first moment I thought we might be able to salvage something, if he lived. And now I held him and knew I had been right and wished that I hadn’t, because then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Bae,” Papa murmured.

“I’ll do it Papa,” I told him, “I’ll do it but I don’t want to,” I choked on a sob, “I only just got you back,”

“I know,” Papa whispered, “If I was stronger I’d do it myself, take away this burden. I don’t want you to live with this curse. I’m sorry,” His voice broke on the final word.

“We should start preparing,” Jefferson spoke up again then, “The window of opportunity will be small and…” He paused and everyone turned to look at him, “And I don’t have long either,”

“You’re sick!” Henry said eyes wide and Jefferson shrugged.

“I’ve been sick for a while,” he said, “But when you’ve lived as nothing but a head for a while then you learn to keep on going whatever happens to your body. I’m the only one with the skill to make this jump, the only one who can shoulder the price long enough to get someone through.” The Sickness and his desperation to save Grace, I realised, had given him his sanity. For now at least, “Neal we should prepare,”

“I know,” I slowly, carefully pulled away from Papa, let him lie back on the pillows. I squeezed his hand one last time and set it in Henry’s. We’d have our goodbye before we left, I knew that. For now I had to help Jefferson prepare.

“Neal,” Emma grabbed my arm as I moved to leave the room, “You don’t have to do this,” her eyes were earnest, “Someone else can,”

“No Emma,” I replied, my voice as heavy as my heart, “They can’t and I wouldn’t want them to anyway,”

“Hook’s always wanted to kill Gold, let him,” She pleaded.

“You want to trust Hook with the fate of the future? The fate of all of us?” I asked and she bit her lip shaking her head.

“No, but I don’t want you to have to take this one either.” She seemed desperate and I smiled at her. Knowing it was probably my last chance ever I leant over and stole a kiss. Even after all these years I was still a thief. She let out a small whimper more grief than anything else and I pulled away.

“We never did get our second chance did we?” I asked and she looked at me, trying to prevent her tears from falling. She shook her head mutely, “Maybe in this new time line we’ll get that chance,”

“I do love you Neal,” She told me and I smiled.

“And I love you,” I stole another kiss and then went through to where Jefferson was waiting. He looked at me with determination in his eyes, “I’ll make sure she’s safe Jefferson, I promise,” I knew he was thinking of Grace.

“I’ve lost her twice now,” He said, “I don’t know that I’d survive losing her a third time, even if I don’t remember it.”

“I’ll look after her,” I swore, “She’ll never want for anything,”

“Thank you,” He said. The promise made we began to work.

It took six hours to prepare everything. The others helped where they could but this part of the work was Jefferson’s domain. He had to find the right crack in the world and then open it wide enough for us to slip through. He also had to ensure he had enough of the necessary items to do it again, over and over, until we managed to find the right one that would take me back through to the Enchanted Forest and back to a time before the curse.

Once everything was prepared I returned to the room where Papa lay. The others had gathered together to bid me goodbye. Henry stood at the front holding a thick packet of heavy parchment, sealed with wax.

“We wrote letters, to Grandma and Gramps, to everyone. So they know, so they understand,” The young teenager said, “You’re to give them to Gramps the day that Mom is born,” He paused then and then placed another, much thinner letter on top of the others, “This one’s for Belle,” He added and I nodded. I took them from him and slipped them into an inside pocket carefully. Then I reached out and pulled my son into a fierce embrace.

“I love you Henry,” I whispered to him, “My son,”

“Love you to Dad,” He replied and pulled away just enough to kiss my cheek, “You’re a hero Dad, don’t forget,”

“I won’t,” I promised. I squeezed my son one last time and then backed away. I received claps on the back from everyone else, an awkward embrace and whispered thanks from Regina and one final lingering kiss from Emma. Then there was only Papa left. He’d deteriorated in the few hours I’d been away from him. His skin was near translucent now and his breath barely stirred his chest to rise. His eyes were closed, as though he had dozed off while waiting but I knew he was awake. As I crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed he opened his eyes again. He had not the strength to speak but he raised his hand to my face anyway. I knew what he wanted and bent down, so that my forehead rested on his and his hand was in my hair. He met my eyes for a brief moment and then closed them. He was stealing himself for one last piece of magic.

I felt it tickle the back of my mind and so I closed my eyes as well and imagined I was opening my arms to him for an embrace.

When the embrace came it was not painless. It was all at once too tight but also wavering in its strength. It clung to my mind showering me in desperate love. I let myself fall into it and suddenly I was in his mind.

What he showed me I could not comprehend that day and most of it I would not understand for years to come. He showed me deals, deals with the desperate and despairing, deals for love and for greed. He showed me magic, all that he had learned he passed onto me, from spinning straw into gold to crafting the most deadly and dark of all curses. He showed me visions, fractured pieces of a future he had strove to find but never really understood. A prophecy about a boy and about a curse and the undoing that hadn’t so much undone him as undone the Dark One. He showed me the dagger, its hiding place in an echoing, dusty and empty castle.  
Then he showed me the rest. He showed me the love he felt for me, for Belle, for Henry, all the emotion he could never put into words. I knew I was crying but I didn’t care, I just let the emotion wash over me. I felt his fear, the strong undercurrent he had lived with his entire life. I felt his courage, not the sort that songs are sung about but far more than he professed to have, the courage he had found in loving me and Belle and Henry. I felt his sorrow and guilt and undying belief that he was a monster who didn’t deserve any of the good things he got but did deserve a hundred times worse than the darkest moments.

At that I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t let him go without showing him the truth. I reached for him and then I showed him my love, my fear, my courage. I showed him my sorrow and pain at being abandoned, my sorrow and pain in believing I’d never see him again, my sorrow and pain in finding out that I’d abandoned my son as much as I had been abandoned myself.

I showed him my forgiveness. How it crept up on me as I watched him try to court Belle and do the right thing for her sake, as I healed in the Enchanted Forest and longed to return to my family which somehow still included him, as I was reunited with everyone and saw him hanging back with desperate longing but not stepping forward.

I showed him how he deserved that forgiveness.

For a brief moment as we shared our whole selves with one another it was as though the whole world disappeared, all the time and all the pain we’d caused one another. It was just me and Papa.

And then it ended.

I felt him weaken. I felt him slip away.

I clung to him as long as I could, determined not to let go until I had to. I just wrapped him in my love and held on.

“ _My Bae_ ,” I didn’t know if the words were whispered out-loud or not but I heard them anyway.

“Love you Papa,” I whispered back with all my heart. And then he was gone.

I blinked back to myself and looked down on his face, at peace at last. I reached up and lowered his hand from where it was hanging limply but still tangled in my hair. Then I reached out with the same hand and brushed his own hair from his face before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

My heart was broken in two but I had what I needed. I knew what I had to do. I could feel the knowledge there, sitting in the back of my mind. His knowledge. His final gift. I stood and looked down at him one last time and knew he was with Belle.

I turned away.

Jefferson led me out into the back garden and the others followed behind. I nodded to each of them as the world jumper reached out to open the crack. I turned to Henry last of all. Determined that he would be the last one I saw in this world.

Jefferson tugged my arm and I gave Henry one last smile before turning and stepping through the portal.

It was time to pay my price.

***

The Dark One sighed as he finished the last sentence and leant back peering down at the words before him and playing with the quill in his hand. It was the work of a lifetime to write it all down. Everything that had happened from the day he fell through the portal into a world without magic to the day he stepped through a crack in the world on his way back to the enchanted forest. And yet he supposed he was only half done.

Then again what was there left to write?

Would he write about the world jumper who faded with each jump until he had to be carried through the last two cracks? Would he write about the lonely burial and the long walk afterwards to a dark, echoing castle? Would he write about the second painful reunion that ended with hot blood gushing over cold steel and a look of utter betrayal?

Those things were his to keep. The price he had paid. The price he still paid.

He glanced up at the window and noted it was late, he should go downstairs and make himself some dinner and retire to bed. Tomorrow he had work to do, King David and Queen Snow had pointed him in the direction of their good friend who was having trouble conceiving. He would help her, for a price.

The thought brought a bitter smile to his face and he set down the quill on top of the papers before standing and walking down from the top room of the tower. The halls of the castle echoed as he passed. He thought only to fetch some food and then go to bed but his feet betrayed him. They took him away from the kitchen and out into the grounds, across a small garden of roses to where a crystal sarcophagus lay forever on top of a marble altar. Inside lay the one person that the Dark One could not let go of, preserved perfectly as though he only slept and had not died nearly two and a half centuries ago.

“Hello Papa,” He murmured to the still figure. He flicked a hand and a single red rose appeared in his grasp. He laid it on top of the sarcophagus, “I finished the book. I don’t know what I’ll do with it now. Who is interested in the story of a lost boy who became a lost man? Still I’ll offer it to the King and Queen when I next see them; if they don’t want it I’ll drop it off in Avonlea. The Lady at least will appreciate a unique book, even if she can’t bear to read the tale.”

He paused once he finished speaking. Magical awareness creeping in. Someone was on his land.

What desperate soul had come to seek the Dark One today? What did they come to ask for? And what price would magic demand of him?

The Dark One turned away from the grave and walked back towards the castle entrance, only one other person had the right to visit the grave and she never would.  
When he reached the entrance he was surprised to see a boy stood there, staring at the gates as though they had offended him. He was dressed richly and there was a horse stood by that, if sold, could probably feed a family for a year.

The boy’s head was covered in soft blonde hair and when he turned at the Dark One’s approach he had a painfully familiar face.

“Do your parents know you are here Prince Henry?” The Dark One enquired and the boy stared at him with wide eyes.

“You know who I am?” He asked hesitantly and the Dark One bowed to him.

“Of course your Highness. I know your grandparents very well,” He replied and the boy frowned curiously.

“What about my parents, do you know them?” He demanded.

“I have had the pleasure to meet the Princess Emma and Prince Baelfire on several occasions,” The Dark One answered.

“They talk about you sometimes, Mom and Dad,” The young Prince frowned in his direction, “They talked about a letter, but I’ve never been able to find it.” The Dark One waited; clearly the boy was here for a reason, “Is it true?”

“Is what true young Prince?” The Dark One asked.

“What they say about you?” Henry tilted his head to one side, “That you survived the end of the world and came back in time to prevent it,”

“Is that what they say about me?” The Dark One chuckled, “The world didn’t end Prince Henry, not really. But everyone died,”

“Isn’t that the same thing as the world ending? If everyone died?” The Prince was wise for his age, but then he always had been.

“Why have you come here Prince Henry?” The Dark One asked instead of answering.

“I wanted to meet you,” The boy replied, “I asked people about you but no one seems willing to answer my questions. But everyone seems to know you. Great-Aunt Regina and Great-Uncle Daniel said you helped them run away together. Grandma and Gramps said that you saved Gramps and Great-Uncle James from dying as babies and then you helped Gramps win Grandma’s hand. Aunt Grace says you’ve been her guardian angel all her life that you’d pay in gold for mushrooms that she and her father picked from the forest. But everyone’s afraid of you; they don’t like to talk about you. If you’ve helped so many people why are you stuck here alone in this old castle?”

“I’m alone because I choose to be Prince Henry,” The Dark One replied, “Because you are right, I do my best to help people get their happy ending but that is not my fate. I will live alone until the day comes that someone is strong enough to defeat me and take my power and then I will die alone. It’s the price I pay to ensure everyone else has their happiness,”

“But you’re a hero,” The Prince looked close to tears, “Heroes are supposed to get to live happily ever after,” The Dark One’s heart broke then and he moved to kneel before the Prince.

“Prince Henry listen to me,” He said, “This is a lesson you must learn and learn well. Magic is alive and all magic comes with a price.” He reached up and put a hand on the Prince’s shoulder and squeezed it gently, the boy swallowed heavily, “You call me a hero young Prince and that is a gift for someone such as me. But the actions for which you have dubbed me hero all come about through the use of dark and cruel magic and there is a price that must be paid. I stay here and pay that price with my own darkness and pain so that no one else has to pay that price. I will have no happy ending until the price is paid in full and that will never happen.”

“Is there no way?” The Prince asked and the Dark One sighed.

“Every curse can be broken young Prince, but for me the one person who could break it passed out of reach a long time ago,” He informed the boy, “Go home Prince Henry and do not look for me again. Go home to your loving parents and your strong kingdom and grow into a good man. Be the hero I can’t be. And always remember, magic has a price and just because an ending isn’t happy doesn’t mean that it isn’t worth the pain and darkness,”

“I will remember,” The Prince promised and the Dark One smiled.

“Good boy,” He felt the tingling of magic at the back of his mind again, “Your parents are here young one, time for you to go home,”

“Alright,” The Prince went back to his horse and the Dark One followed. He offered the young boy a single hand to boost him into the saddle and by the time the Prince and Princess along with their guards rode up he was sat waiting.

“Dark One, please forgive our son’s intrusion,” Princess Emma said looking down at him with an unreadable expression.

“It’s quite alright Princess. There’s no harm in a curious boy, he does your family proud,” The Dark One bowed to her.

“Thank you,” Princess Emma replied and wheeled her horse around. She rode off with the guards surrounding her and her son riding beside her.  
Her husband waited, staring at the Dark One.

“You’re just letting him go?” the Prince said and the Dark One smiled up at him sadly.

“Would it make you feel better if I stole him away and locked him in a tower?” He asked and the Prince shook his head, “In another life he was torn between two mothers and it hurt him, more than he should ever have hurt. I won’t impose the same life on him for the sake of two fathers,” The Prince nodded and looked up at the castle and swallowed heavily.

“I’ve never been here have I?” He asked and the Dark One shook his head.

“No, you slept elsewhere,” He answered.

“Is he here?” The Prince asked and the Dark One closed his eyes, feeding his heartbreak into the dark fire in his chest.

“He always will be,” His voice remained steady even as the fire devoured his pain.

“May I return someday?” The Prince asked, “To say goodbye?”

“Of course,” The Dark One answered.

“If you asked I know Emma would be willing to try and break the curse,” The Prince offered, hesitant that his offer would be well received.

“It wouldn’t work,” The Dark One answered, “I’m not her True Love and she is not mine. She’s not broken the way mine was; to her Tallahassee is just a story not a shattered promise.” The Prince nodded but looked uncomfortable agreeing.

“Bae!” The Princess’ shouted voice came back to them on the wind and the two men, Dark One and Prince turned to look at where she was waiting for her True Love. Then the Prince turned to look at the Dark One once more.

“I didn’t understand at first but I think I’m starting to,” He said softly, “Thank you,” With that he wheeled his horse around and rode back to his family.

The Dark One watched them go and considered his book upstairs.

There was more to the story, more things to add. He hadn’t told the tale of the heartbroken evil Queen or the princess turned bandit and the shepherd turned prince. He hadn’t told the tale of the beauty and the beast, of the mad hatter and his daughter, or of the hesitant saviour. He remembered the original book and he remembered all the tales.

He’d write them down again, fit them inside his own. Then once it was done it would go to the young Prince.

After all it was the same young Prince who started it all off with a book.

And maybe at the end he would be able to finish it with those longed for words.

_And they all lived happily ever after…_


End file.
